


(I Gotta Kn-kn-kn-know) What-what's Your Fan-ta-ta-sy?

by GreenBryn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, D/s, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt-comfort., M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-05
Updated: 2011-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9180574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenBryn/pseuds/GreenBryn
Summary: Becky writes a Mary Sue fic of what she would do if she had half a chance...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a pinch hit for [](http://spnthreesome.livejournal.com/profile)[spnthreesome](http://spnthreesome.livejournal.com/) challenge. I wrote for this prompt: "Hurt/comfort. Needing to not be in control anymore." Sorry this was so late, I really fail at deadlines ^_~ Still, I hope you like this! It's my first Becky fic, and I think Sam's a little OOC, but then again, this is Becky's POV, so of _course_ Sam is going to be a little bit... off.

Author/Artist: [](http://brynspikess.livejournal.com/profile)[**brynspikess**](http://brynspikess.livejournal.com/)  
Recipient: [](http://monjinator.livejournal.com/profile)[**monjinator**](http://monjinator.livejournal.com/)  
Title: (I Gotta Kn-kn-kn-know) What-what's Your Fan-ta-ta-sy?  
Pairing: Sam/Becky/Chuck  
Rating: NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content, Bondage, D/s, Hurt-comfort.  
Word Count: 4,060

WARNINGS: Explicit Sexual Content, Bondage, D/s, Hurt-comfort.

NOTES: Written as a pinch hit for [](http://spnthreesome.livejournal.com/profile)[**spnthreesome**](http://spnthreesome.livejournal.com/) challenge. I wrote for this prompt: "Hurt/comfort. Needing to not be in control anymore." Sorry this was so late, I really fail at deadlines ^_~ Still, I hope you like this! It's my first Becky fic, and I think Sam's a little OOC, but then again, this is Becky's POV, so of _course_ Sam is going to be a little bit... off.

Summary: Becky writes a Mary Sue fic of what she would do if she had half a chance...

~*~

The blank text document glared, white space mocking her with every blink of the cursor. Becky stared at her computer screen and sighed, unwrapping another Hershey's Kiss and popping it into her mouth. She couldn't figure out what was blocking her muses - the room was lit by candles and the glow of the monitor, burning incense filled the air with the sultry fragrance of roses, a bowl full of chocolate was at the ready, and she had her favorite playlist titled _"Steamy Sweaty Sammy Songs"_ playing in the background. Usually she didn't bother with all the work of creating a perfect atmosphere for writing, but tonight was special. Tonight she was going to write the first Mary Sue fic she dared to write since she met her favorite battle-worn soul-weary hunter in person.

The bunny had been in the back of her mind ever since she had laid her palm against Sam's warm, firm chest, but after that first, heart-racing encounter, she'd been too busy traversing the farthest reaches of the internet, gathering fans of the book series and coordinating the first awesome convention of many, _many_ more to come.

Now that the First Annual Supernatural Convention had been such a success and news was out that there were going to be more books published, new life had been breathed into the dying fandom and Samlicker81 was skyrocketed to the prestige of BNF. It had taken several months to keep everything organized with the sudden influx of new members and fic submissions to Morethanbrothers.net, but now she had a couple volunteer minions of her own to help keep the website running smoothly and life was starting to calm down a little. Now she finally had time to really immerse herself in her favorite vice.

Rolling the melting chocolate around with her tongue, she decided to skip over the beginning of the fic for now, making a note to go back and fill it in later. Becky typed a few notes into the beginning of the document, about meeting Sam at a bar, alone. Dean would be in some other town, running down a lead on how to stop the apocalypse. It would be utter coincidence that she and Sam would run into each other in the bar - or no, maybe she would have called him with vital information, something Chuck had told her to pass along, or something she had remembered from the books that the boys might not have known, and he had come to town to meet her.

Whatever the reason, Sam would be feeling guilty about starting the apocalypse and would be drinking a little too much without Dean around to watch over him like the dedicated and overprotective big brother was known for. With the condition he was in, it was the least Becky could do to offer to give Sam a lift to a nearby hotel. It was nicer than the ones Sam and Dean usually stayed in - a cookie-cutter hotel chain with free shampoo and soap in the bathrooms and the same bland painting in every room, and Becky wouldn't think twice about slapping her credit card onto the counter and requesting a room. It seemed only right that for all the sacrifices the brothers had made over the years, saving countless lives and slaying hordes of monsters and nightmares, that she could part with some of her hard-earned money and pay for the room.

Of course the hotel would be out of two-queens, so she would reserve a king-size bed on the first floor and help Sam into the room, awkwardly shoving and yanking his jacket off and letting it fall to the floor. Sam would sprawl, taking up the majority of the large bed as he passed out fully clothed. After making another trip back to the car for Sam's duffel bag, Becky would allow herself a few minutes to just look at him, drink in the sight of his face peaceful with sleep, his long limbs stretched out. After some internal debate, she took his shoes off, telling herself that she wasn't being too forward - it would be a crime to make him sleep with those big clunking boots on.

Untying the knots on one boot, Becky loosened the laces until she was able to slide it easily off of Sam's foot. She repeated the process on the other boot, and almost jumped out of her skin when Sam suddenly rolled over. "Dean," Sam murmured as he snuggled into the pillows, socked feet curling into the comforter. His t-shirt would have ridden up when he rolled over, and Becky's hands would shake as she resisted the urge to stroke the patch of skin that had been exposed.

Becky grinned as her fingers flew over the keyboard, sinking into the setup of the scene as she described herself laying down on the empty side of the bed to keep Sam company, feeling the coarseness of the comforter, the warmth radiating from Sam's side of the bed, the quietness of the room with the sounds of Sam breathing, and the strangeness of trying to fall asleep in jeans and a button-up blouse.

~*~

I awoke in the middle of the night, disoriented. It took my eyes a few minutes to adjust to the darkness, and I had to blink several times before I could focus on the red numbers of the alarm clock: 4:37 a.m. and there was an arm around my waist, and a hot body pressed against my back. Then my brain kicked in - Sam. I had gone out drinking with Sam last night, and then bought him a place to stay. Even though my heart totally belonged to Chuck, I couldn't help the grin that split my face as I recorded to memory what it felt like to be in Sam's muscular arms. I knew the chemistry between us was too strong to completely deny, and I couldn't fault Sam for unconsciously reaching for what he denied himself while awake. In this dark, cold hotel room, I would grant him whatever comfort I could. Not wanting to disturb the moment, I closed my eyes and drifted off.

The second time I awoke to the sound of the shower. I was alone in bed and daylight was bleeding - no, _seeping_ \- through the edges of the curtains. I rubbed my eyes, sitting up as the shower cut off. I was still trying to figure out what to say to Sam when he came out of the bathroom, clothed only in a thin towel around his hips. I flashed back to the scene in _Hell House_ before my brain short-circuited completely, my gaze drawn to a drop of water as it rolled down his chiseled chest. Never before have I yearned so to be a drop of water. My mouth was dry - I wanted to lick the water off of his chest, suck the moisture from his skin to nourish myself.

"Oh, hey, sorry. I thought you were still asleep." Sam said, grabbing his duffel and hefting it onto the small hotel table before unzipping it and rifling through the contents. He pulled some clothes out, holding them close to his chest as he hurried back into the bathroom. Part of me was disappointed that I didn't see what kind of underwear Sam was going to be wearing, but the rest of me didn't mind so much - I'd had a great view of his ass as he'd bent over to pick up his bag, and my mind was still spinning with the thought of what might be under that towel.

I shook my head sharply. There was no time to be wasted - I grabbed my purse and up-ended it onto the comforter. Digging through the pile, I unearthed the emergency mini-toothbrush with freshener bead. Brushing my teeth with one hand, I grabbed a hairbrush with the other and ran it through my hair a couple times to tame the morning tangle. Shoving everything back into my purse, I dropped it to the floor seconds before Sam came out of the bathroom clothed in a shirt and jeans, vigorously rubbing a towel through his hair. "Bathroom's free."

"Thanks." I flashed him a smile as I walked past, the smile fading as I closed the bathroom door behind me. My stomach was fluttering and I felt a bit dizzy from being so close to him. I used the bathroom quickly and washed my hands, praying that Sam wouldn't suddenly vanish while I was in there. I almost sighed in relief when I left the bathroom and found Sam sitting on the side of the bed, still barefoot, a classic "emo thinking" look on his face.

"You're still feeling guilty." I said, sitting on the bed next to him and putting my hand on his shoulder. Electricity surged between us, making my whole arm tingle. I could tell that he could feel it too - Sam looked at my hand for a long moment before he turned his soulful gaze upon mine.

"I _did_ let Lucifer out," Sam said, pain and self-loathing evident in his eyes.

I squeezed my fingers over his strong shoulder, ignoring the little voice in the back of my mind that whimpered from sheer squee. "Ruby was manipulating you."

Sam hung his head, his damp hair falling like a short curtain blocking his eyes from view. "Still my fault."

"You really aren't going to forgive yourself, are you?" I murmured.

Sam scoffed, "It isn't that easy."

This wasn't acceptable - Sam was a good guy, and he needed to get over this self-flagellation before it destroyed him. I took a deep breath, praying that I would have the strength to do what needed to be done. If Sam wouldn't forgive himself, I would have to force him to accept my forgiveness. I had an idea, something I'd read about it in a fanfic, and I had a feeling that it would work. I always trust my feelings - I believe they are signs from the Universe telling me what to do, and I've never once regretted acting on them.

"You leave me no choice, Sam." Withdrawing my hand, I steeled my voice and pursed my lips in the sternest face I could manage. "You must be taught not to question the wisdom of your Mistress." There. My cards were on the table, and it was up to Sam now. My heart bucked wildly in my chest like an untamed wild stallion as I waited for Sam to make the next move.

Sam's head jerked up and he stared at me, confusion slowly dawning into understanding and then into a kind of relieved acceptance. "I'm sorry... Mistress." Sam said slowly, testing out the words. His eyes flickered over me, evaluating for a moment, and then he quietly said, "There's rope in my bag."

"Good. Take your shirt off and kneel on the bed, facing the headboard." He turned away from me - just in time, too, because I was having a lot of trouble not grinning my head off like a crazy freak. Beautiful, strong, amazing Sam was submitting to me! It felt like a dream, and I didn't dare pinch myself for fear I would wake up. Instead, I opened up his duffle bag and looked for the rope. There was a ball of twine about the thickness of my pinkie in the corner of the bag, near a wicked-looking knife. Grabbing both, I turned towards the bed. Sam had followed my instructions to the letter. He was kneeling, and his hands were clasped behind him in the traditional submission pose. "Do you have a safe-"

"No." Sam cut me off.

I almost chided him for interrupting, but I decided to let this one pass. I climbed onto the bed behind him and he shifted to keep his balance as the bed jiggled from my movements. Kneeling behind him, I began to wrap the rope around his wrists. I looped the twine against his skin over and over, careful to make it snug enough that Sam probably couldn't free himself, but still loose enough that it didn't cut off circulation. I finally finished with a knot that had won me a Girl Scouts badge when I was little, and used the knife to cut the rope from the ball. A thrill raced through me - I couldn't believe this was happening, and even though I had no doubt that Sam could overpower me if he wanted to, bound or not, it was still sinfully hot that he was willing to hand over control to me. I wanted to snap a picture for memento's sake, but my phone was in my purse on the floor, and I was afraid that reaching for it might break this fragile understanding between us.

Sensing I was done, Sam flexed his shoulders and rotated his wrists, testing his bindings. The rope creaked but held. While Sam was distracted, I quickly cut three pieces of rope the length of my arm and tied a knot in the middle of the bundle. Folding the length of rope in half and gripping it just below the knot, I had MacGyver'ed myself a quick and dirty flogger. Martha Stewart would be proud, or possibly horrified.

Finished with my task, I turned to Sam, who had relaxed into his bindings and was awaiting my next command. His bare back was spread in front of me like a canvas, scars here and there marking the smooth skin, mementos from past hunts. Tracing the largest scar with the fingertips of my free hand, I leaned close to whisper in his ear. I used my sternest voice, forcing myself to resist the desire to giggle."Why do you need to be punished?"

"Because I questioned my Mistress." The easy answer came first, of course. Sam was following the unspoken script, and I didn't want to disappoint him.

I flicked my wrist and Sam cried out as the rope licked his skin, mostly in surprise rather than pain. I let the tips of the makeshift flogger glide over his back, letting him get used to the sensation for a few moments before flicking my wrist again. This time I got a sharp inhale from Sam. Not nearly good enough. I flicked again, a bit harder this time, and got a gasp as my reward. I grinned. "Better." I whipped him with the flogger seven more times before setting the flogger down on the bed beside me. Pink marks had begun to blossom across his back and I ran my hands lightly over the lines, massaging the taut muscles for a couple minutes in an effort to coax them into relaxing. Time for round two, I decided. Pressing my chest against his back, I asked again, "Why do you need to be punished?"

"Because I released Lucifer."

Again with the easy answers, but that was okay. Mineswell get them out of the way first. I stroked the flogger across his broad shoulders before bring it down in a controlled arc from his left shoulder to his right side. The second hit crossed it, from Sam's right shoulder to his left side. I repeated both hits, enjoying the way the rope swept over the span of Sam's back. I brought the flogger down six more times, alternating directions each time. Dropping the flogger onto the bed, I ran my hands over Sam's back, soothing some of the discomfort. After reading about Sam's history in the books and all of the hunts he'd barely lived through, I doubted the sting of the flogger made the slightest dent in Sam's pain threshold, but this wasn't really about physical damage. I could take the flogger to his back with all my strength, leave him a bloody pulpy mess, and it wouldn't come close to the damage Sam inflicted upon himself emotionally. No, this was more about the symbolism, the release that comes from letting go. Sam's breathing was starting to come in raggedly as he gave himself over to this loss of control, something it seemed like he'd been needing for a long time. When I felt like he'd had enough time to recover, I asked my question again.

"Because the apocalypse is my fault."

"Because I let Ruby trick me."

"Because I betrayed Dean."

"Because Jess died."

Each time Sam gave me a reason, I rewarded his honesty with ten strokes of the flogger. I alternated the timing between each swing, leaving Sam off balance and never quite knowing when the next hit would come. When I was finished with the flogger, I would caress his back with my hands, comforting the inflamed skin and keeping it sensitized. After a half-dozen reasons, Sam's back was covered in soft pink and angry red welts, criss-crossing lines racing in all directions. I ran my nails down his back and Sam hissed like an angry cat, arching his back from the pleasure-pain.

"I forgive you," I said firmly, before slapping the palm of my hand down sharply on top of the welts in the middle of his back. Sam cried out, and I repeated myself. "I forgive you." A hard slap to one shoulder, "I forgive you," and then the other. "I forgive you," I continued, Sam's body jerking under the slap. "I forgive you," I pressed a kiss to the heated skin between his shoulder blades, skating my palms over the red marks on Sam's skin. I grabbed the knife and cut the rope binding Sam's wrists before tossing the knife onto the bedside table and helping Sam out of the rope. I watched Sam rub the imprint that the rope had left on his wrists. "Are you okay?" I finally ventured, the thin veneer of Mistress Becky cracking.

Between one blink and the next, Sam had turned and knocked me off balance, and he now knelt over me, pinning me down against the bed. My heart was racing - had I done something wrong? I knew I wasn't the best Dom in the world, and I didn't have all that much experience, but I had read tons of D/s fic and I figured I had a decent handle on the idea. Before I could ask Sam what he was doing, he murmured a soft, "Thank you," before leaning down and kissing me.

God damn, that boy can kiss! In most fics I read, Dean was the one with the panties-combusting powers, but let me state for the record, it definitely runs in the family. I could barely remember to breathe as his tongue swept into my mouth, and his massive hands danced over my body in the lightest of teasingly ways. I'm not ashamed - I moaned into that kiss like a wanton vixen. I could put a romance novel heroine to shame with how much I wanted him.

There was a knock at the door. Sam startled, looking up at the door, and I grinned. He looked down at me and frowned. "Expecting someone?"

"Actually, yeah," I giggled. I couldn't help myself. Sam looked so confused, and his head was cocked like a puppy. I ruffled his messy hair and called out, "Come in!" There was a metallic whirr and click as a keycard was accepted, and the door cautiously opened.

"Chuck," Sam said awkwardly, looking down at me and then back up at my boyfriend, who was closing the hotel door behind him. I could see Sam misinterpreting the situation and scrambling for an excuse as he backed off of me, kneeling on the bed. "I can explain, man. This isn't what it looks like-"

I got up on my knees again and raised one hand, cupping the side of Sam's face, and he stilled. "Sam, relax. Chuck had a vision." I tossed a come-hither grin over my shoulder at Chuck, who offered me a weak half-smile in return. Poor guy, I knew he wasn't totally convinced this would work despite having foreseen it over a week ago. But I believed in him and in his visions, and I had a feeling that before this day was over that all three of us would be happily sated. "We knew this was going to happen."

"You knew-" Sam looked at me, eyes narrowing dangerously, "-that _what_ would happen?"

I pulled his head down, kissing him as deeply as he had done to me moments ago. His mouth opened and I boldly ran my tongue against his, tasting the mintyness of his toothpaste again. His hands were on my hips and I reached around him, raking my nails down his back. Sam groaned into my mouth, the guttural sound sending shivers down my spine to pool between my legs.

I felt the bed shift as Chuck joined us. He swept my hair away from the side of my neck and mouthed the skin there, knowing how much I liked to have my neck marked up. He must have taken his shirt off already, because his chest felt warm against my back through the fabric of my blouse. Sam broke the kiss and caught Chuck's gaze. I could feel Chuck's nod against my neck, and the next thing I knew Sam had gripped the front of my blouse in his fists and tore it open, buttons popping and flying everywhere. The shock of getting my shirt savagely ripped open made me gasp, and Chuck helped slide the fabric off my arms as Sam ducked his head, wetting the thin cotton of my bra with his tongue. My nipple hardened from the attention and he sucked it through the fabric, making me moan and writhe against Chuck.

Not to be outdone, Chuck sucked a bruise into my neck as he reached around me and unbuttoned my jeans, sliding the zipper down and slipping his hand inside my panties. I felt his fingertips stroke my wetness before circling my swollen clit and rolling it between his fingers. My hips jerked helplessly from the stimulation, and I wrapped my arms around Sam's shoulders as I tried to hold on for the wildest ride of my life.

Sam had moved onto my other breast by now, giving it the same treatment he had the first. His hands stroked down my bare sides and slid over my ass, gripping and pulling me towards him until I was straddling his lap. Chuck scooted close behind me, trapping me between them. I could feel Sam's hardness through both layers of our jeans and I rocked in his lap, rubbing myself forward on Sam, Chuck's erection rubbing against my ass as I rocked back. Sam unhooked my bra and removed it, tossing it away as he cupped my breasts in his palms. He pinched my nipples hard at the same moment Chuck pinched my clit, and I cried out, coming and shaking between them.

Slowly coming back to my senses, I found myself absently rocking boneless between Sam and Chuck, who were both still hard. "So," Sam said conversationally as he stroked my breasts. "Whose turn is it next?"

I exchanged a quick grin with Chuck, whose smile was starting to look a lot more genuine, before turning back to Sam and waggling my eyebrows in the most seductive way I could think of. "You don't _have_ to take turns," I purred, knowing Chuck was already open to the idea. A slow smile spread over Sam's face, sweet as warm molasses, and I knew today was going to spoil me and make every porny fanfic I've ever read pale in comparison. _Ever._

~*~

Chuck groaned as he rolled over, waking up to a hangover pounding in his skull. There was an open bottle of alcohol on the bedside table and he grabbed it, taking a healthy swallow of the hair of the dog before he tried sitting up. Bad move - the pounding in his head kicked up a notch and he flopped back on the bed.

The visions were getting more frequent and varied. Last night he'd seen Becky writing a fanfic of one of her fantasies. At least, he hoped it was only a fanfic and not a foreshadowing of future events...

Taking another swig from the bottle, Chuck sighed. Either way, things were going to be getting interesting pretty soon.

~ end.


	2. Comments from Livejournal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking down my fanfiction from Livejournal, and I wanted to keep some of the comments that have been left on my work there.

   
[ **cherie_morte**](http://cherie-morte.livejournal.com/) 2011-01-05 05:25 am (local)

BRYN. LIKE I DIDN'T ALREADY LOVE YOU ENOUGH--YOU USED A LUDACHRIS LYRIC FOR YOUR TITLE. OMFG, BE MY BRIDE?

  
I loved this idea from inception and you just rocked it. This is so hilarious. Man, when you switch into First Person POV and then in the end, OMG. POOR CHUCK. AHAHAHAHAHAHA.  
  
Awesome, awesome way to write this ppairing. Thanks for taking a pinch hit--and for rocking it! ♥

 

[ **brynspikess**](http://brynspikess.livejournal.com/) 2011-01-05 05:58 am (local)

*marries you and sweeps you away to an island paradise with internet access for a honeymoon*  


  
I'm so glad you liked it, babe! Happy to help out - sorry I was so late. :)

* * *

   [ **piratepurple**](http://piratepurple.livejournal.com/) 2011-01-05 06:44 am (local)

<3! Just <3!

* * *

[ **clex_monkie89**](http://clex-monkie89.livejournal.com/) 2011-01-06 01:53 am (local)

 I LOVE YOU FOREVER BRYN. FOREVER AND A MONTH AND A WEEK AND SIXTEEN HOURS.

* * *

 [ _(no subject)_](http://grnhairbryn.livejournal.com/23848.html?thread=30504#t30504) \- [](http://monjinator.livejournal.com/profile)[**monjinator**](http://monjinator.livejournal.com/)

**(LJ was deleted)**

* * *

[ **nightlovechild**](http://nightlovechild.livejournal.com/) 2011-07-24 11:26 am (local)

 Again I go looking for fanfic on work downtime, I end up giggling and holding back the loud fangirl reaction I want to make. When I got to the Mistress Becky part I think the walls shook with the HIGH pitched squee.

  
Has made my day all the better for it, Thank you.

 

[ **brynspikess**](http://brynspikess.livejournal.com/) 2011-07-24 11:46 am (local)

 lol, thank you so much! :) I'm so happy you liked it!


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